Blood of a Tyrant (Traitor Paultryk)
by blessedemon
Summary: This is my own variation of the Eddsworld Traitor AU. As Paul continues to plan the murder the infamous Red Leader, his lover and best friend Patryk follows along cautiously. When they are both caught, Patryk is told to kill his love to prove his allegiance to the Red Army. Panicking, he does what's best for everyone. (Rated M for Violence)
1. Chapter 1: The plot thickens

Smoke drifted across the room lazily as the user flicked stray ashes from the tip of a cigar onto a small plate resting on his desk. The odor sank deep and rested in the crooks of each of the three men's uniforms, but mostly lingered on the one in the middle who was holding the putrid-smelling item. The fingers that clutched the small brown bundle were red and robotic which matched perfectly with the rest of the arm that the hand led to. Each of the metallic parts perfectly linked up to another one, bolts holding them all together as it dug deep into a shoulder of a man dressed formally in a blue jacket uniform with tufts of red puffing out from the middle of the torso. The man all this belonged to sat in a big, elegant chair with an equally respectable desk that had gold linings along the sides.

Two men stood behind the sitting one, each at-ease with their hands folded politely behind them with their legs spread ever so slightly underneath. One of these men had a cigarette sticking from between his teeth which contributed to the dark smoke hovering along the ceiling. He wore beige pants and a blue coat which matched the other man's with buttons lining his chest. His hair swept to the right and intertwined with big bushy eyebrows which rested on top of one dark brown eye with bandages covering the eye to the left. The other man to the right of the leader seemed a bit more relaxed, with his blue jacket unbuttoned and open in the front revealing a red turtleneck. His eyes were a deadly dark brown and stared straight forward towards the wall. His hair was parted in the middle and folded nicely to each side, making sure no bangs were in his face. The two men stood quietly and respectfully while awaiting orders from the cyborg sitting in front of them.

Various papers littered the desk: some with red markings on them, some with pictures that were X-ed out. All of them had soldiers who had, at one point or another, betrayed the infamous Red Army and given battle plans away to other military enforcements. Every man whose picture had a mark on it was dead in some way, and the man who gazed upon everything narrowed his eyes in frustration. _What is the correlation?!_ He thought angrily.

"Augh!" Tord yelled, standing up from his chair swiftly while also managing to throw it backwards and hit the wall behind him. "I don't understand!"

"Sir, what don't you understand?" The soldier behind him with the bushy eyebrows asked cautiously.

"What I don't understand, Paul, is why all these good men ran with their tail between their legs and ratted information out to other armies!" He yelled back, pinching the bridge of his nose with his metal hand.

"If I may-" The other soldier, Patryk, tried to interject.

"None of them were in the same regiment, they were all of different age ranged, they all kept their traps shut before I blew their brains out! They all have nothing in common!" The horned-hair man screamed louder, wiping the desk clean of everything which sent the papers scattered everywhere on the ground.

Patryk stepped forward with his hands reached out as he knelt on the ground and gathered all the papers into a neat pile and picked them all up. As he set them calmly on the desk and retook his place behind his leader, he quickly took a glance at his partner who had a small drop of sweat slowly rolling down the side of his face as he twitched slightly with nervousness.

Tord took a deep breath in and sighed loudly, rubbing his temples with each of his hands in attempt to calm himself down. "Paul, Patryk. That will be all for today. Go put these files away and don't let anyone in my office."

They both nodded simultaneously and did as they were told, exiting the room from the large doors directly in front of Tord's desk as quickly as they could. When the doors shut behind them and they put away the files, Paul looked up at his partner and embraced him tightly. Although they were still in the filing room, Patryk complied, holding the other man close to his body in order to comfort him. Small coos left the man's lips as he rubbing small circles on Paul's back, slowly rocking back and forth as he normally did to calm him down. When he finally calmed down, they both made their way to the sleeping quarters and closed the door behind them when they reached Paul's room.

"You need to keep it together better." Patryk immediately said after they locked the door.

"I know." He responded quietly

"He's going to find out if you're obvious about it."

"I know." Paul said a bit more sharply.

"What'll you say if he sees you acting suspiciously?"

"I don't know!" He yelled in frustration, running his hands through his hair and gripping the ends of it between his knuckles. "I started this, I can keep going."

"You can end this too." Patryk said, getting up and kissing the other softly while holding his cheek. "If you back out now, nothing will happen."

"You don't know that."

"I don't, but you're his second-hand man. He's got to go easier on you than the others, right?"

"I'm not backing out, Pat. He's going to kill millions if I don't tell somebody." He said with more determination in his voice. "Somebody needs to stop him, he's gone mad with the amount of power he has."

With a sigh, the other nodded with defeat and laid back on the bed while staring up at the ceiling. His bangs laid out next to his face as he slowly closed his eyes. He had known Paul for years, and since they both worked so closely to Red Leader, they only grew closer as they both secretly hated how arrogant Tord could be with his intelligence and strength. They started by sharing meals together, sharing their feelings about certain things with each other, and eventually started confiding in each other about their pasts. Upon being so close with each other, they decided to start sleeping in each others rooms just for company since neither of them had roommates and it could get rather lonely at night. It was an unspoken love they had for each other, and it even began to start getting physical. Nothing too much, just small kisses here and there, and they obviously cuddles at night when they would share a bed.

Hours past, and a very loud alarm echoed through the sleeping quarters and all the mess halls to come to the main hall immediately. As the two woke up, they knew something was wrong. They weren't called first beforehand, which meant it was urgent. They both changed as fast as they could and ran down the halls, attempting to get there before everyone else by pushing through the crowds of soldiers in identical uniforms. When they got to the front of the crowd, they both stopped dead in their tracks when they saw a beloved friend kneeling on the stage with his head bowed. Blood dripped from his nose that was snapped in half. Stains of blood scattered his jacket and his nametag was visibly laying next to him along with all the badges he had earned over the years. And standing above him was the feared Red Leader.

Tord's exposed eye glowed a dangerous red as a crimson liquid dripped from his fist and the heel of his boot. He waited until everyone was in the hall together before he slammed his foot on the ground to quiet them all. Once everyone saw the scene ahead of them, Tord opened his mouth and yelled out. "You all know this soldier, don't you?"

A few mutters spread through the crowd as many men nodded.

"How many knew him as a friend, show of hands!"

A few uneasy hands were raised in the air.

"How many knew him as a trustworthy man?"

A few more went up.

"How many ate with him, fought with him?"

More and more went up.

"And how many share fond memories of this man, kneeling before you?"

At this point, a majority of hands were in the air. Those men who were wary of Red Leader's intentions, including Paul and Partyk, kept their hands down and their eyes glued to the stage in front of them.

"Men, you have all been betrayed by the one who is kneeling in front of you all." Tord grabbed the man by his hair and flung his head up so everyone could see what was left of his bloodied, bruised face. "He has shown us what being a traitor is about. I have decided that I will publically announce those who choose to turn their back on the Red Army and abandon us for another place."

More murmurs spread through the crowd as the man in Tord's grasp groaned in pain. With this, the leader gave him another yank as he gasped louder. "Tell me, what army did you squeal us out to?"

The man kept his mouth shut and looked up at the cyborg man.

"What? Cat suddenly get your tongue? You were so excited to talk when you came to my office with a pistol in your hand and pride in your chest." He taunted.

"G-go to Hell." He spat out, spitting whatever blood was left in his mouth on his former-commander's boots.

"I've already been there. Tell the devil I said 'hi'." Tord grinned, throwing the man onto the stage face-first and pulling out a revolver from his holster, pointing it to the back of his head. His finger pressed against the trigger, but he took one more look at the crowd before he pulled it. "This is traitor number 5. Any of those who are thinking of rebelling can take a good look at this man here. He is your new hero." **BANG**!

The sound rang throughout the room as blood splattered all over the Red Leader's jacket and face. Those in the front watched with horror as they could no longer recognize who was laying in front of them. Tord had shot with such close range that the traitor's head had cracked completely in half and now scattered his brain in all directions. Paul had gripped onto Pat's hand tightly as he gazed upon the body with horror. He knew what he had done. He knew it was his fault. And he knew he had to do something before someone else had gotten hurt. But he also knew that he could be the next one on that stage.

Tord looked upon his masterpiece and gave the crowd a smile that could make the devil shudder. "You are all dismissed. Sweet dreams, and make sure you wake up early tomorrow. You all remember you have training." They all began to disperse, that is until Tord saw Paul and Patryk begin to follow everyone. "You two, stay back."

As he said those words, their hearts stopped. Well, at least Paul's did. He took a deep breath and turned around to face his leader, standing at attention as everyone left behind them both. "Sir, what can we do for you?"

With a stifled laugh, Tord snickered at the serious-looking man who had his chest puffed out and his arm folded behind his back neatly. "I just simply need you to clean up the mess. No need to look so professional. Patryk, dispose of the body and you, Paul, can clean up the blood. Since you are doing this, you may sleep in tomorrow." He waved his hand and walked off to his own sleeping quarter, leaving the two soldiers to deal with his mess.


	2. Chapter 2: Caught in the Act

After the two men were dismissed by the sadistic, cruel leader that they called their own, Paul stayed up all night. He couldn't sleep after seeing a close colleague die in front of them, let alone clean up his blood. The bodily fluid stained his pants and his sleeves as he was making the stage look presentable again, and he didn't have another change of a jacket for a few days. He obviously had perks seeing as he was second to the tyrant, but he wasn't about to abuse his power just so he wouldn't have bloody clothes. Regardless, he sat at the desk in his room and wrote down rebel plans that he knew he would have to put into play soon enough.

Patryk was a little more numb to the violence, seeing as he disposed of the body and didn't bat an eyelash. Though he knew it couldn't let the corpse faze him or else he wouldn't be at such a high position as he was right now. As much as he hated to touch the body of someone he used to converse with and share a meal or two with, he knew that it happens every day. He's killed before, why would this stop him now? For they knew at this point, they could both be on the ground with a nice bullet hole denting their brain and their blood draining by the second. As the thought echoed his brain, he eventually fell into a deep sleep.

Paul left about an hour prior to Patryk waking up, knowing that if his boyfriend knew what he was up to, his plan would take much longer to complete. It was about 6:00 AM and he got into his uniform like always. Planting a kiss on Patryk's forehead, he grabbed a small hand-held bag and shoved it into his jacket while walking out into the hallway to blend in with the dozens of other men going to their positions. He used his magnetic key and smoothly walked into the weaponry, nodding at a guard who stood at post at the gate to let him in. The guard was new and obviously didn't know who he was so he looked at Paul nervously.

"Let me in?" He asked to clear up the nodding.

"Sir, I-I believe I'm required to ask you to fill out a paper in order for you to access the weapons." The newbie stuttered, holding a clipboard forward to the older soldier.

Paul simply looked at the papers then back at the newcomer, "Are you serious?"

"I don't think I would joke about this, sir."

"I work next to Tord, let me in." Taking a deep breath, Paul hoped that the use of his real name would intimidate him, which successfully worked.

"O-oh! I'm sorry, sir! Go r-right ahead!"

As the gate opened and closed behind him, Paul walked around and searched the shelves for what he was looking for: A silencer. One of those were imperative if he really wanted to kill his leader. He had a small handgun and he had about six bullets he could use with it. He could use his shotgun, but it wasn't good at short distances. As he looked up and down the aisles for the right size, he started thinking about what Patryk could possibly be thinking when he woke up and saw his lover gone. Paul started to panic, thinking that Patryk might assume that he was taken by Tord, seeing how he didn't get a wink of sleep last night due to the incident. He looked more anxiously for the small add-on and inspected the different sizes of the silencers. When he finally found the right one, he shoved it into the bag in his jacket and continued to walk down the aisles until he reached the one which held the bullets. As his fingers curled around the box containing the ones he needed, he also shoved it into the brown sack. As he slid it back into place underneath his blue jacket, he lit a cigarette and held it between his teeth as he walked towards the exit. Smoke flew from his mouth and up to the ceiling, still leaving the disgusting smell wafting around the area.

The newbie opened the gates up for him and he walked out, letting a sigh of relief escape his lips as he went back to his room with his hands in his pockets. As soon as he opened the door, he was met by being tackled with a tight hug. He looked down and smiled, resting a hand on the messy hair of the other who curled tighter, regardless of their height difference.

"I was so fucking worried, Paul! Why the hell did you leave?!"

"I had to grab some things, I didn't want to wake you." Paul reassured Patryk.

"I-I thought something happened to you, like they found out your plan. Don't ever leave me again, okay?"

He let out a soft laugh and smiled down at him, "Okay, I promise."

"Good. Now what did you get?" Patryk stood up to his full height and looked down at his partner who revealed a small sack of items. "Nice, we'll need those."

Just as Paul was about to say something, the door behind them both was kicked open and two guns were pointed at their heads immediately. The mere shock of how quick it happened stunned them both, but Paul was soon met with the butt of the gun smacking him in the face, causing him to fall backwards and land on the floor with a groan of pain.

"What the hell?!" Patryk yelled, kneeling on the ground next to Paul before a barrel was pressed to his temple.

"Red Leader wants to see you two, _traitors_." The man holding the gun said, the word paralyzing Patryk as he tried to stand up.

As the two men reached the office, they noticed first that Tord was standing behind his desk with his back towards them and his arm folded neatly just at the crook of his spine. The doors shut behind them, and they soon realized that they were alone in the room with the single most feared man in all of the base. His robotic arm creaked and whirred as he moved his fingers to make sure that they were still working properly, then he slowly turned around. His eyepatch was resting on his desk and his hair was still a bit messy, but the horns were still visible as the top of his hair ruffled into a point. As he faced the two, they both dropped their eyes in order to not stare at the burned mess that made up half of his face.

"Look at me." He said coldly. "Look me in the eyes, cowards."

Patryk knew better than to stare at Tord's past scars, but Paul looked up and did as he was told bravely. "We aren't the cowards."

"Excuse me?" Tord slipped on his eyepatch and bared his teeth angrily as his soldier talked with a tone he wasn't used to. "Are you calling me the coward?"

"I am."

With that, Tord swiftly walked over to the men and grabbed Paul by the neck, throwing him on top of his desk with all his might, yelling as he did so. Patryk flinched and tried to step forward to help his lover, but Tord glared at him warningly. "You stay where you are."

As Paul lay on the desk, using his arms to prop himself up, the Red Leader grabbed him by his hair and slammed his face down on the wood, snapping his nose in half and causing the smaller man to yell out in pain. Pulling his robotic arm back and shoving the soldier back onto the ground, he looked down at him with a glaring red eye.

"S-sir! Please stop!" Patryk yelled out, clasping his hands over his mouth after he realized what he said.

"Do not call me 'sir'! I am no longer your leader and you aren't my soldier! You are a traitor and you will be punished!" With that, Tord pulled out his pistol that rested on his hip and pointed it directly at Pat who held up his hands defensively.

"No! Don't shoot! He wasn't involved!" Paul screamed, holding onto Tord's leg in order to get his attention. "It was only me!"

Almost laughing in amusement, the leader looked down at the desperate man, kneeling so that they were face-to-face. "Do you love him? Are you trying to be a hero?" He asked mockingly.

Paul looked over at his man and and grunted when Tord yanked him up by his hair. "Just don't hurt him. Please, I planned it all."

"He's a traitor whether or not you did it all yourself." Growling, he kicked the man in the chest sending him flying halfway across the room and causing him to start having a laughing fit. Patryk could only close his eyes and try to drown out the painful sounds his friend was making. When Tord saw the way Patryk was acting and took this as an opportunity.

"Go to him."

With the permission, Pat fell to his knees next to Paul and helped him sit up comfortably. He desperately hugged him and tried to reassure him that everything would be okay. "Paul, it's okay. I'll take a bullet with you, don't hold all of the blame." He whispered quietly into his ear.

Paul yanked his body away and looked at Pat with saddened eyes. "I only used you."

"Oooh, the plot thickens." Tord said with a smirk, sitting on his desk while waving around the handheld gun.

"W-what?" Pat said sadly, standing up and backing away from the man, tears forming at the tips of his eyes.

"I needed men and you were the easiest to get. After you proved your allegiance to me, it was easier to get people on our side to rebel. I never loved you."

"But.. All those years.." He mumbled, the darkness filling his eyes.

"Yawn. Boring. Stop with all this drama." Red Leader said, standing up and cocking his gun. "Patryk. Do you still love him?"

"I.. I don't know." He admitted, his head bowing with a mix of shame and sadness. He gasped as a gun was shoved between his hands.

"Shoot him."


	3. Chapter 3: It's for the Best

"Shoot him." Tord's voice silenced the entire room, causing both Pat and Paul to hold their breaths. The only sounds that could be heard would be the mechanical whirring of Tord's arm as it quickly formed a fist with him growing more and more angry by the second. "Or I will have no choice but slaughter you both."

"I.. can't do it." Pat dropped the gun and fell to his knees, his head bowing in shame.

"Do it, Pat."

"I won't do it!" He yelled, tears falling from his eyes as he shook with fear. "I would rather be killed next to him.

"Oh, come one!" Tord groaned, yanking Patryk up by his collar and shoving the gun in his chest. "You heard him, he never loved you!"

Paul couldn't bare to look up at his love, he stared at the ground as blood pooled next to his knees from his broken nose. His only regret was not being able to tell Pat how much he really did love him. He wanted to hold his dear friend close to him and say that he's doing it for his own good. There would be no way for him to rest easy if the last thought in his mind was how the one person he cared about in the entire world was going to die because of him. With that, a small smile spread across his lips as he realized that he was doing the right thing.

"Love isn't real, Patryk! Nobody truly loves another person, don't you understand?! You think my old friends truly loved me? No! I was temporary to them! And you are temporary to him!" Tord jabbed a finger towards Paul as he yelled the words into Pat's ear. "He used you, you were nothing but a tool to him! But I can make you strong."

Patryk slowly stopped trembling and looked to the side at the slightly smaller man. "You can?"

"You can become a leader like me. You can have your own army." He persuaded, knowing the capability of power Pat had inside of him. "You can have millions of men under you. You can be feared and loved by many."

"Feared and loved.." Patryk echoed.

"Just prove your allegiance to me. Show me you are strong. Show that you are above fake feelings like love. You are a God, you are above any emotions that come before you." With a smirk across his lips, he wrapped his arms around Patryk and helped him lift the gun in his hands to aim directly at Paul's forehead.

"I am a God.." He echoed again, holding the gun firmly between his fingers.

"Just pull the trigger."

"Pull.." His finger rested on the extension of the small gun, "the trigger." He repeated, beginning to pull back.

The last words the slithered out of Paul's mouth as a teardrop rolled down his cheek, "He's lying to you."

 _ **BANG**_

Patryk gasped and sat up sharply in his bed, sweat coating his forehead and his hair while it stuck to the sides of his face. His heart was beating out of his chest as he held onto his head, reassuring himself it was just a dream. But it wasn't just a dream, it was a memory. A painful memory that haunted his mind every night for the past three years since it happened. At first, Patryk would wake up and not be able to sleep the rest of the night, but he had grown used to his aching heart. He had taken up smoking and had stolen the spare jacket that Paul had in his closet, but Pat didn't know how to feel. Half of him wanted to burn the damn thing, but the other half made him to cling the the fact that Paul could've actually loved him. He had long abandoned his feelings towards anyone, and he had grown dull to the idea of love, but part of him still held onto the past.

 _He could still see the crimson blood oozing out of Paul's body as his lifeless corpse slunk against the wall. His forehead was split in two as the bullet dug deep into his skull, his face was coated in the red liquid and his eyepatch that covered his right eye was slowly falling off due to the moisture it absorbed. His scar was now visible and the cigarette that he held between his teeth lazily fell from his mouth to his jacket._

Just remembering the memory, made Patryk cringe with disgust for both the sight that was imprinted in his mind and the thought that he was the one who did it. Given, Tord for once kept his promises and he only moved up in rank as time passed on, but to what end? He witness many men get killed in various ways. Each more gruesome than the one before. Even he had killed men due to mutiny or treason. He had heard in the halls in whispers how men have attempted to plan the death of himself, but nothing fazed him anymore. And although he has had opportunities to have men next to himself, he knew he couldn't do that. He knew his own men would soon overpower him as he was soon to do with Red Leader, so he slept with a gun next to his bed and with one eye open. He could trust nobody anymore.

Three years after Paul's death, and not a single day more, Patryk tossed and turned as the moon shone into his room through elegant windows next to his bed. He couldn't sleep from the guilt haunting his mind. His eyes had grown dark with regret and anger as he swung his legs to the side of his bed to hoist himself up. He scanned the room for something, anything he could use as a weapon until his eyes stuck to a single object: A small, handheld revolver. He picked it up and checked to make sure the bullets filled each gap. 9 small, lead casings and nothing less were in his sights. He counted it over and over and over again to make sure that he had enough, spinning the holster around and around. He glanced at a mirror that hung on his wall and reminded himself that he had to do this. He reminded himself that this was his fault, and that he had to do this for Paul. As he lifted the gun level with his arm, he slid it into a small space between his jacket and his shirt while heading out of his room. He wore only sweatpants and Paul's jacket accompanied with a white shirt as he headed down the hallways, his eyes scanning for anyone coming. Then his feet stopped at a door that he had only been to once before when he had to drop Red Leader off after his surgery.

He quietly opened the door as a streak of light grew from the door against the wool carpeting. The man sleeping in the bed lay comfortably under blankets which hid all but his red robotic arm. The eyepatch that normally rested on his face was unraveled and sat on a table next to his bed, the strings falling messily from the side of the wooden furniture. Patryk closed the door behind him and quietly locked it as he walked closer to the sleeping tyrant. With a calm posture, he climbed on top of the Red Leader and clasped his mouth shut as he woke up immediately.

"W-what is this?! Soldier! Get off me this instant!" Tord yelled into the other's hand, squirming underneath the pressure and weight of the body. He swung his metallic arm in order to swat the man, but Patryk did something so that his shoulder detached from the rest of his arm.

"Why are you struggling? Aren't I a God?" Pat said, his eyes not changing from his indifferent reaction.

"Get off of me!" At this point, Tord began to panic, Pat had a few inches on him (not to mention more muscle) and he was dependent on the power of his arm.

"This is for Paul." Pat pulled the small gun from his holster and shot his leader in the stomach, causing him to scream in pain.

"Th-this is what it's about! Dammit! He never loved you!"

"This is for brainwashing everyone." He pulled the trigger again, making another hole in his torso.

"Shit! Augh! We were about to take over the world! We still can!"

"Why're you lying to me?" Patryk pushed on the wounds, causing them to release more blood as it began to soak the sheets surrounding them both.

It was at this point that Tord began to snicker, his wounded eye opening as it revealed a milky white pupil and iris, his grin growing bigger. "You don't know what you're doing. You can't kill me, you can't stop what I've created!"

"I can sure as hell try." He raised the gun so the barrel was pointing directly at the leader's adam's apple.

"It's already started, nothing can stop my loyal army. Not even you! You don't have as much power as me! You never have!" Tord began to laugh madly as he quickly lost blood. Then he went silent as the gunpowder ignited and the bullet shot straight through his flesh. His blood painting the walls a pretty red as it stained Patryk's skin and hair.

As he stared down at his creation, a small smile spread across his lips as the metallic arm fell limp against the ground, spare wires sparking from the inside of Tord's shoulder flying around as electricity still jumped through it. Pat only calmly stood up from the mess of white blankets and crimson liquid and picked up a single item from the wall next to the bed. A black military hat with a golden design along the front and the rim. A small golden spike emerged from the top and shone in the moonlight as Patryk slipped it onto his own head. He gazed down once more at the man he once respected and then he walked out, blood and all staining his clothing.

He knew he was in control now.

* * *

Dear God! I finished this just before I got onto my plane! I'm off to Hawaii for a month now, but I should be continuing to update my other story! Hope you liked this one! I am just in love with this AU

:)

-K


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